I started sewing in 2017 with one very simple goal: I wanted to be crafty and practical. I had tried other crafts before, but they always felt like I was buying supplies… to make stuff… to then figure out where on earth to store it. Sewing felt different. Sewing felt useful. Like, look at me, I made a thing I can actually use.

Then I took a quilting class at my local quilt shop and—welp—that was the end of that. I was completely hooked. What started as a little curiosity spiraled very quickly into something much bigger (as quilts tend to do).

At first, I thought my whole purpose was to teach my younger sisters how to quilt. I was convinced I would teach my entire family to sew via YouTube. Plot twist: instead, I found a whole new family. Along the way, I taught, learned, and built a community that continues to surprise me in the very best ways.

Much like a quilt, this community came together piece by piece. Block by block. Little moments, little conversations, shared projects, shared wins, shared “oops” moments. Somehow, all of it stitched together into something bigger than I ever imagined—and I truly love the people I get to do this with.

One of my favorite things about quilting is that it is for everyone. Truly. No matter your skill level, background, or experience—you belong here. It’s not as hard as it looks, and it absolutely does not have to be perfect to be meaningful. (Perfection is wildly overrated anyway.)

Fabric-wise, I’m drawn to fun, bright prints (hello Alison Glass and Tula Pink), batiks (because every single cut is a little surprise), and florals (think Lella Boutique and Sherri & Chelsi forever). Even when two people use the same pattern, no two quilts ever turn out the same—and that individuality is what keeps me endlessly inspired.

My sewing machine journey started very humbly with a Brother machine from Costco that cost less than $200. From there, I moved into more modern machines and spent time sewing on several Baby Lock computerized machines, which were lovely. Eventually, I wanted something that could really handle bag making and heavier stitching, so I invested in a Juki TL-18. I loved every machine I sewed on… but vintage machines? They’ve always had a special kind of magic.

In the spring of 2024, I started stitching on a 1951 Singer 301 that I had custom painted red and lovingly nicknamed Ruby. I never looked back. In a world where so much of my life revolves around technology, sewing on Ruby feels grounding. I love the sound she makes. I love how she connects me to the past. She just gets me.

When I first started sewing, we lived in a small house in Arlington, Virginia. My sewing space was a tiny corner of the basement… which eventually expanded into most of the basement (whoops). In 2022, we moved to Prince William County, VA, and I knew our new home needed a space that could handle my longarm, a Handi Quilter Amara 20 on a 10-foot frame, plus my fabric stash and all the gear required not just for sewing, but for running a YouTube channel too.

So when we bought our home, we made the very intentional decision to sacrifice our two-car garage and turn it into a sewing room that I got to design from the ground up. I know that’s not something everyone gets, and I don’t take it lightly. It was, and still is a total dream come true.

If there’s one thing I want you to know, it’s this: grab a package of precuts and just start sewing them together. You don’t need permission. You don’t need perfection. You just need to begin.

Welcome to the world of Sew Becca. I’m so, so glad you’re here. 💛